


Burnt Offerings

by JackBivouac



Series: Rise of the Runelords [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Bestiality, Bondage, Breeding, Double Penetration, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Forced Pregnancy, Gang Rape, Humiliation, Impregnation, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Monsters, Multi, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-18 09:51:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18118373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackBivouac/pseuds/JackBivouac
Summary: Backstory oneshots deviating/derived from a Rise of the Runelords campaign





	1. Bride of the Barghest

Nuli, an aasimar from the little town of Sandpoint, awoke atop a thin, black marble altar. She lifted her head from where it dangled over the edge, her marble black eyes bulging with fear through the tangles of her white hair. 

Try as she might to get up, her arms and legs had been shackled to the front and back sides of the altar. The metal cuffs bit into her wrists and ankles as they strained and scratched the altar stone. They pulled her naked breasts and belly flat against the altartop, exposing her naked holes over the edge.

Her cries for help rang through the black cavern of a church like the sweetest choir song. 

The only response was a dark chuckle, similarly echoing. Sandaled feet scraped up the shallow steps on a leisurely stroll to the platform.

“Fear not, Nuli, blessed among women. You’ve been chosen by Our Lady Lamashtu, Mother of Monsters.” The voice was a familiar, but none of those words inspired even the slightest comfort.

Aldern of House Foxglove, the town’s wealthy playboy, stepped into Nuli’s line of sight and smirked into her dangling face. Of course he had the audacity to wear the black robes of a priest.

“You, you won’t get away with whatever the fuck this is.” The shrill squeak in Nuli’s voice belied her defiant words.

Aldern’s pupils dilated at the undeniable terror in her blanched face. “Funny choice of words.”

He opened his robes, baring Lamashtu’s three-eyed jackal tattooed in garish red and yellow across his chest. That and his erect cock.

“N-nmph!”

Aldern shoved his cock through Nuli’s lips. He grabbed her head in both hands and rammed his dick in to the back of her throat.

“Mother’s tits, I’ve been waiting to do that,” he grunted over her slobbery choking. The virgin prude with the full-figured body of a slut had denied him at every turn. 

Now the aasimar whore was going to hurt. Already, his cock was pounding streams of hot tears and snot from her beautifully crumpled face.

Heavy footfalls shook the stone altar from behind. Nuli couldn't turn her head under Aldern's powerful grip, but the lips of her cunt and anus pursed instinctively tight at the deep-chested growl resounding low through the cavern.

Malfeshnekor, barghest lieutenant of Lamashtu, had entered the ring. The gray-furred canine beast stood eight feet and weighed in over two thousand pounds. His twin cocks, fully unsheathed stretched like bright red arms toward his bound bride's tiny holes. Their tapered heads pressed solid and hot against the closed mouths of her pussy and anus.

Nuli bucked in alarm, belly and breasts slapping against the altartop. But Aldern kept her head forced down, her throat gagging around his cock. Her cuffs kept her limbs nailed in place as the beast mounted his bride, impaling her sacrificial pussy and ass on his monstrous cocks.

Aldern's cock in her mouth forced Nuli to high-pitched nasal shrieks. Her body's violent jerks of protest sent stinging slaps across her bucking breasts and belly. Her pulverized shafts spasmed just as forcefully around the barghest's swollen cocks.

The tight, wet squeeze of her pussy and anus only urged the beast onward. Malfeshnekor obliged, shoving his twin knots through Nuli's tortured holes.

The massive push banged Nuli's nasally screaming head even further onto Aldern's dick. The cultist priest moaned and exploded into Nuli's rawed throat.

With his bride fully plugged and knotted from behind, Malfeshnekor let out a cavern-shaking roar and exploded through crushed lips of her womb and bowels. Nuli's rigid-spasming body ballooned from the belly as he pumped her full to the brim with the hot gush of his seed.

Aldern stepped back from the barghest groom impaling and impregnating the altar-bound aasimar. Cum and spit splattered from Nuli's mouth but her head remained bowed, unconscious.

“Right, well, you've obviously got things under control here, so I'm just gonna--”

Malfeshnekor silenced the priest with a deep, warning growl and continued to rape his knotted bride.


	2. Toilet of the Bugbear

Everyday after working at the family glassbworks, the half-elf Tsuto went to the Rusty Dragon for drinks. Yes, he got a discount because his sister owned the joint, but the second biggest draw was her employee, the angelically lovely and kind Nuli. When he learned that she hadn’t come in to work that day, he went to investigate at once.

Tsuto’s investigations led him to Thistletop, a particularly round island some sixty feet off the coastline. The last thing he remembered was crossing the rope bridge to the island.

The half-elf woke with a brain-splintering headache. It took him several blinks to adjust to the darkness. He wasn’t alone. 

A woman, filthied with dirt, sweat, and who knew what other fluids but shapely nonetheless, huddled in the corner of the stone cell. She was naked save for the collar around her neck that chained her to the dungeon wall.

“Nuli?”

New chains clanked as Tsuto struggled to rise. His wrists and ankles had been cuffed and shackled to the floor. The highest he could get was onto his hands and knees.

The woman said nothing, her face shrouded in white tangles. But a deep laugh rasped from behind him.

Tsuto looked back over his shoulder. His pupils dilated in fear. Behind him loomed a seven-foot goblinoid mass of muscle and matted black fur, a bugbear.

The creature licked its lips and ripped Tsuto’s pants apart at the seam. Before the half-elf’s asshole even had time to react and clench in fear, the bugbear drove its long, thick, slimy tongue through Tsuto’s hole.

The half-elf jumped and squawked, cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists and ankles. His face flushed red hot with shame. He shut his eyes and grit his teeth, but he couldn’t shut out the fact that he was being anally raped in front of the woman he loved.

Every lick and slurp at his helpless anus sent a new rush of shame from his gut to the gently pointed tips of his ears. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry.

Somehow, he had no idea how much worse things would get.

After what seemed an eternity of rimming and plunging, the bugbear shucked its tongue from Tsuto’s ass with a wet, popping squelch. Even so, the half-elf shuddered and gasped with relief, his skin drenched in sweat.

Only for a hard, wide knob of burning flesh to prod his spit-slicked anus. Tsuto’s eyes bulged in wild panic.

The bugbear forced its heavy, oblong dick into Tsuto’s polished asshole. The half-elf’s virgin shaft ripped like velcro over the thick wedge of its cock.

Tsuto screamed. His limbs scrambled instinctively for escape only to hit the chain. He collapsed in a heap of writhing limbs.

The full weight of the bugbear fell on top of him. The creature was too deep in the rut of Tsuto’s ass to give him even a second of relief. It simply dug its claws into the half-elf’s shoulders and pounded him into the dungeon floor.

Tsuto’s eyes blurred with tears. Acid sloshed up the back of his throat with every thrust.

The bugbear howled in primal heat. Its engorged cock pumped splurt after splurt of thick, goopy cum into Tsuto’s ravaged virgin ass.

The bugbear’s cum toilet whimpered in futile protest. Crushed flat beneath the monster, he had no choice but to take every last drop in his plugged anus. Right in front of the very woman he set out to save.


	3. Never Go Goblin-Hunting Alone

Goblins had unleashed grievous arson upon Sandpoint during the Swallowtail Festival. Shalu, the green-haired elven ranger, had been hired to wipe out their tribe. They tracked them all the way to the island of Thistletop just off the Lost Coast.

Shalu snuck into the wooden fortress atop the isle. The halls were dark and proportioned not for three-foot, green-skinned goblins but humanoids of their own side.

They crept into a hall floored by hard-packed soil, as if the builders ran out of lumber after building the walls and roof. A number of poorly preserved horse and dog heads were mounted on the wall along with a pair of large, batlike wings tacked on with daggers.

A crossbow twanged. The bolt knocked the burning top off Shalu’s torch, plunging them into darkness. Rabid chittered erupted from every corner. Scores of goblins swarmed the hall.

Shalu clenched their teeth and fired arrow after arrow into the darkness. But their daylight eyes couldn’t pinpoint their marks. A few goblins went down with dying shrieks and gurgles, but twice their number filled the ranks.

The goblins swarmed up Shalu’s kicking legs. The elf furiously slashed and stabbed with their dagger, but there were too many. Goblins scaled their torso, clung to their arms, and sent Shalu toppling to the floor under their seething weight.

The elf slammed back first into the dirt with a pained grunt. The swarming goblins held them down and ripped the weapons and clothes from their body.

Shalu roared and struggled. The goblins only dug their claws into the smooth, olive skin of their thrashing arms and legs. They plugged the elf’s roaring mouth with not one but two thrusting dicks.

“Mmph!” Shalu cried in muffled alarm.

Two more goblins shoved their dicks into their fear-clenched anus. As Shalu buck and strained in agony, another two dicks pounded up the dry shaft of their pussy.

Shriek after muffled shriek whistled from Shalu’s nose as the goblins pummeled their every hole into the dirt. They pistoned into the elf’s shafts, rubbing each other’s dicks as much as they ripped through Shalu’s walls.

Hot goops of cum exploded into Shalu’s throat, pussy, and anus. Once the howling, chittering goblins were spent, another two took their place in the physically restrained elf’s holes.

Shalu’s shafts, filled to the brim with sticky seed and thrusting dicks drew tight around their assailant cocks. Each pounding head slammed spasms in their raw, tormented walls.

Their eyes widened in dawning horror. No! Those disgusting creatures couldn’t be--!

Shalu’s back arched with a dick-muffled scream. The goblin dicks forced them into orgasm, shameful pleasure ripping through their body pinned against the floor.

Hot tears of shame spilled from their eyes. Their chest shook with silent sobs of despair as pleasure speared them up their slutty cunt and anus into their clenched stomach. 

And there was no escape. The captive Shalu had become the new rapetoy and cumslut of the entire goblin tribe.


	4. Work Bites

With her best employee, best friend, and brother all vanished without a trace from the tiny town of Sandpoint, Ameiko, proprietor of the Rusty Dragon, had no choice but to make her way to the lonely, decrepit manor house at the edge of the wilds. Rumor had it that Vancaskin Manor once belonged to said noble line from the ancient days of the Thassilonian Empire. Now, it was home to a local legend, the retired adventurer Orik. Who had not been seen for the past twenty years.

Ameiko was not surprised that no one answered her knock. Nor her shouts, rife with profanity. She simply opened the door herself with the lockpicks she'd prepared.

She stalked, loudly, through its dusty, cobwebbed halls until accosted by an ear-splitting snore from the dining room. An uncommonly pale man no older than thirty draped over the edge of the table in a crumpled suit, minus the jacket.

Ameiko woke him with a sharp jab in the ribs.

“Ow, fuck.” He raised his head, wincing eyes as amber as whiskey. Sweat or perhaps just layers of unwash plastered dark brown curls to the tapered lines of his face.

“Where's Orik?” demanded Ameiko.

“I'm Orik.”

Lies, but she was running low on options. Her vanished brother and friend had been the closest thing to adventurers this town had.

Ameiko plunked a heavy satchel of coin onto the table. The tactic usually sobered a man in seconds. This man must have been drunk off his lying ass. She was going to have to spell this out, wasn't she?

“Fine, 'Orik’. How'd you like a job?”

“I only hunt these days. Or butcher.”

“Then this is your lucky day because you'll probably be doing a bit of both.”

#*#*#*#*

The goblins’ Warchief Ripnugget had taken the degraded elf ranger Shalu to his throne room. The great, wooden hall was decked with hanging furs--black and red-striped firepelt skins, various dog pelts, and what look like horse hides. 

Four square timbers supported the ceiling, three of their faces studded with dozens of iron spikes. Dozens of impaled and severed hands in various stages of decay ‘decorated’ the lower spikes. The fourth was pockmarked from the removal of spikes to make room for their new cumslut.

Shalu sat on their knees at the base of the fourth timber. Their arms had been shackled above their head to the single, remaining iron spike. 

At all hours of the day, goblins climbed their body, penetrating their mouth, nose, ears, pussy, and anus with their tiny, stabbing dicks. Their cum poured from the elf’s every hole and caked every inch of their skin and green hair so that Shalu appeared less elf and more sticky, stinking monster themself.

Their cum-coated head remained bowed, unseeing as the throne room doors burst open. Ripnugget leapt onto the arms of his throne, a wooden chair heaped with dog pelts and horse hides, the animals’ skulls adorn the armrests and chair back.

“Howdy,” said Orik, slouching in the doorway. Goblin blood oozed thick from the long blade of his bastard sword.

“Kill! Kill! Kill! Kill!” screamed the warchief.

His goblins yoinked themselves out of the cum toilet and ran at Orik with frentic chittering. 

Orik sprang into a swinging dance of blade and flying body parts, moving with inhuman speed. He reached the throne, every goblin dead in his wake. He grinned at the warchief, canines elongating.

“Just gonna put this out there--I hate goblin blood, but damn am I thirsty.”

Insensible to the warchief’s attacks, Orik chomped into the goblin’s neck. He bit right through tendon and bone. Ripnugget’s head popped off in a gush of gooey blood. It rolled to a stop between Shalu’s knees.

The elf raised their head. They were just in time to catch the vampire toss Ripnugget’s desiccated body over his shoulder. Orik’s eyes, red fading into amber, met theirs, canines retracting.

“Uh, hey. Pretend you didn’t see that.”

Shalu said nothing, cum splattering from their mouth onto their defiled breasts.

Orik swung his sword. The blade sliced through Shalu’s binding chains and thunked halfway into the supporting timber.

The elf cried out in release. They toppled to their side, their chest shaking with the threat of deeper sobs.

“Ok, you stay here. I’ll be back as soon as I finish sweeping the dungeons.”

Shalu nodded weakly. They hugged their arms around their chest and lay in tears upon the throne room floor with the dead.

#*#*#*#*

The dungeon levels had been completely abandoned. Orik found nothing but a half-elf’s heat signature from one of the cells. He busted down the door.

Tsuto laid naked on his side, his wrists and ankles shackled to the floor. Dried lines of cum streaked from his ass down his legs and all over his face.

“Just hold still.” Orik swung his sword through the chains. Metal sheared through metal.

Tsuto sat up, tears streaming from his eyes, cutting trails through the dirt and cum. “The bugbear...it took her...it took Nuli!”

Orik sighed. That bitchy Ameiko would definitely take a chunk out of his pay for that. “Great. Let’s...just get you and elfy home.”


End file.
